Chapter 11
The last week of term was passing by rather uneventfully for Hermione until she was unceremoniously shaken awake by a pale-faced Ginny, hovering only a few inches from her face, her tears splashing down on Hermione’s cheeks as she sobbed.
“Hermione! Hermione! Wake up! Oh gods- Hermione-“
Hermione slowly sat up, trying to gather her bearings, as she groggily wiped Ginny’s tears from her face, blinking at the red-haired girl in alarm.
“Ginny? What are you doing here? Are you alright?”
She tugged the shaking girl onto her bed, hurriedly wrapping her blanket over her as she put her arms around her, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly.
“My dad- Harry saw my dad- my- my-“ Ginny’s voice faltered, as she gasped for breath between loud sobs.
“Shut up!” Lavender’s voice hissed from behind her curtained bed, having been woken up by Ginny’s commotion.
Hermione rolled her eyes, casting a quick silencing charm over the two of them, as Lavender grumbled under her breath about rude, inconsiderate know-it-alls.
“Ginny, you have to calm down. Here, take a deep breath,” she whispered soothingly, as she gave the girl a tight hug. Ginny nodded tearfully, wiping her cheeks angrily as she let out a few shaky breaths, her hands clutching at her chest.
When her breathing finally steadied, Hermione released Ginny from her embrace, wiping a few stray tears with the sleeve of her jumper.
“Okay Ginny, now tell me what’s wrong.” Hermione flashed Ginny a reassuring smile, rubbing her back in soothing circles.
Ginny took a deep breath, biting back a hiccup, as she met Hermione’s kind gaze with her own blue eyes, red and puffy from her crying.
“Hermione… It’s terrible. Ha- Harry had a dream that my- my dad was being attacked by You-You-Kn-Know-Wh-Who’s s-snake.” Ginny was shaking again, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
Hermione frowned. “Okay, so Harry had a dream… He’s been having a lot of those recently.”
“N-no you don’t understand!” Ginny wailed, grabbing both of Hermione’s hands in her wet palms. “His dream was real. My-my dad was found attacked at the Mi-ministry ju-just an hour ago. He-he’s been really badly injured Hermione. The-they said he would have die-died if they hadn’t found him when th-they did.” Ginny fell into Hermione’s arms, her sobs muffled by Hermione’s fluffy dressing gown.
Hermione was wide awake now, her heart thumping loudly against Ginny’s shaking body.
This didn’t make any sense. Harry’s dreams were just dreams. How could he have seen Mr. Weasley being attacked? It didn’t make any sense. It must have been a coincidence… and yet…
Hermione’s mind raced, fear beginning to rise in her as she thought about what this might mean for Harry. If he truly was seeing Voldemort’s actions in real time… If Voldemort was really in Harry’s head… This was bad. Very, very bad.
“I just- I just came to tell you, before I left.” Ginny muttered, her tears subsiding as she clung to Hermione.
“Where are you going?” Hermione asked, alarmed. Surely Hogwarts was the safest place for Ginny, especially now, after everything that had happened.
“To St. Mungo’s,” Ginny replied miserably. “All of us are going there now to see our dad. We were given ten minutes to pack, but I … I just wanted to let you know what’s happened. Harry was with us when we heard about our dad, so he knows everything… I thought you might want to know too.”
Hermione kissed the top of Ginny’s head as the girl sniffled wretchedly in between hiccups.
“Thanks Ginny.” She whispered, “You’ll be okay. I promise. Mr. Weasley is strong, and I’m sure Dumbledore is making sure he is being seen to by the best Healers. He’s going to make a full recovery by Christmas, I’m sure of it.”
Ginny nodded back, her swollen eyes still tearful, as she gave Hermione a soft smile.
“Thanks Hermione. I should get going now, I don’t have a lot of time until the Portkey is set to leave.” She said softly, as she untangled herself from Hermione’s embrace, rising from her bed.
“Alright, be safe Ginny,” she responded, giving the girl’s hand one last squeeze, “and uh- give Ron my love?” she added, her voice wavering, unsure of what the right thing to say was to a friend after his father had almost been killed by a murderous snake.
Ginny gave her a small smile in response, before rushing out of the door.
…
Hermione could not sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed, sighing to herself until an irate Lavender sent a pillow flying at her face, snarling at her to get out or go to bed.
Finally, she tightened the dressing gown around her body, and left the dorm, trying to be as quiet as she could, so as not to enrage Lavender any further.
She made her way up to the boys’ dormitory, quietly sneaking into Harry’s room in the hopes that he was still awake. However, his bed was empty, as was Ron’s.
Her heart clenched as she thought of Ron hastily packing up his things, rushing to go see his father, and Harry, roaming somewhere in this castle, surely wracked with guilt, blaming himself for everything.
She had to find him.
As quietly as she had entered the dorm, she snuck back out, making her way down the stairs. She crossed the dark common room, tripping on an errant stack of books scattered around the room. She silently cursed to herself, gingerly rubbing her toe, as she ducked out of the door.
“Another one?” The Fat Lady’s irritated voice chased after her as she scurried away from the portrait. “No respect for my sleep, none of you!”
Ignoring the Fat Lady’s outraged mutterings, Hermione quietly paced down the castle corridors, wishing to herself that she had grabbed Harry’s cloak, or at least his map. If Umbridge caught her out of bed… she shuddered to herself as she thought of Harry’s scarred hand.
She scarcely dared to breathe as she made her way to the second floor, trying her best not to wake the portraits as she snuck past them. She was just passing a snoring portrait of Cadmus and the Dragon when hushed voices coming from Snape’s potions classroom made her jump out of her skin.
“Altaire, I swear to you this is the best possible outcome for all of us!”
Hermione’s heart drummed in her ears, as she quickly clasped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from gasping.
Altaire.What was Malfoy’s sister doing out of bed?
She gingerly tiptoed her way towards the classroom, her hand stilling over the wooden door.
There was a pause before the girl responded with her recognisable drawl.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean Blaise.”
Ah Zabini. He was a Slytherin in her year, a friend of Malfoy’s. They’d never interacted before, but she’d often seen him hanging out with the blonde ferret around school. She quickly pushed herself back against the corner of the wall, leaning in to press her ears against the classroom door.
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
She heard Blaise let out an exasperated sigh.
“If you keep acting so brazenly in your defiance, not even your parents will be able to protect you. Draco’s doing everything he can but there are eyes everywhere in this castle. How long do you think you can keep this up before it gets back to the wrong sources?” he hissed lowly. “Your father’s position is as precarious as it is. You’re not just putting yourself at risk, love, your risking their lives too.”
What was Zabini talking about? What was Altaire up to? And ‘love’? Were they in a relationship?
Hermione’s curiosity peaked as she leaned forward, pressing herself more firmly against the door.
“I’ve never done anything that wasn’t in the interests of protecting my family.” came the girl’s flat response.
“The books you flaunt around school, your behaviour in Umbridge’s classes, your continual rebuffing of the Slytherin alliances… Teri, tell me how this is anything but dangerous for your family.”
“It’s not my fault Theo wants to keep me at arm’s length.” Her tone was now bitter.
“You know Theo has good reason. And you know I’m not talking about him. I’m talking about the others. Besides, Astoria told Draco that you challenged Umbridge in class last week about Potter and the Dark Lord. I think her exact words were that you said, “Anyone would be a fool to think that Cedric Diggory’s death was an accident and not the product of obvious Dark Magic.” Drake can keep her mouth shut but the rest of the class? You should count your lucky stars that this hasn’t gotten back to anyone of importance yet.”
Hermione caught her breath as she listened in. Altaire had challenged Umbridge? She’d stood up for Harry? Malfoy’s sister? But why?
“Well, I thought I might educate her, considering that my own father was there that night. I was merely bringing in some insider knowledge to the class. It would be terribly un-Ravenclaw of me to see a mistake and ignore it.”
Blaise hissed, the sound of his hands slamming down on a desk making Hermione jump.
“This is not a game! You’re a Malfoy. You represent your family name, whether you like it or not, and any sign of dissidence will come down as hard on them as it will on you. I know you love your family Teri, despite your differences. Could you live with yourself? If you got them killed?”
“Well, they can always disown me. It has been known to be a Black family tradition… and a popular practice for Slytherin self-preservation,” was her dry response.
“Do you even know your parents? Or Draco?” Zabini countered hotly, his tone incredulous.
“I know what they’ve done. I know what they’re prepared to do, and I know they’re going to drag Draco down with them unless I do something.”
There was a pause before Altaire continued.
“Tell me Blaise… just consider this… What if my parents are wrong. What if they’re all wrong. The Dark Lord has tried time and time again to kill Potter. The most powerful dark wizard alive has resurrected himself, with the sole purpose of destroying a teenage boy, and he’s bested him – at every turn. Yes, the Dark Lord is powerful, but Potter grows stronger too. Every gambler knows that it is foolish to put all your galleons on one horse.”
“So, you’re doing this on the off chance that Potter might take him down?”
“He’s done it once before.”
“He was a baby. He didn’t even do anything! It was just a freak accident –“
“So, imagine what he could do in the future.” Altaire’s voice was no longer bored, but earnest.
“So that’s it? You think Potter has some slim chance of beating the Dark Lord, and you’re willing to risk everyone you love’s lives on this fancy?”
“I also find his morals a lot more appealing than the Dark Lord’s.”
“Morals.” Zabini’s tone was growing more and more incredulous. “Since when did you care about blood-politics?”
Hermione was also interested to hear Altaire’s answer. She couldn’t imagine that growing up in Malfoy Manor, she had somehow escaped the blood-purity bullshit that her brother seemed completely and utterly brainwashed by.
“I don’t.” she shot back curtly, and although she hadn’t expected a different answer, Hermione felt a flash of disappointment.
“I don’t care for it at all. In fact, I care about it so little that it seems hardly worth the trouble to join in on a tiresome hate campaign against a whole section of the Wizarding World.”
Interesting.
“So, you’re going against your family, simply because you can’t be bothered?” came Zabini’s sarcastic response.
“You and I both know, hell even Draco knows, none of this is about blood. The Dark Lord wants power, and utter control. If blood-status wasn’t already such a divisive topic, it would be something else. Perhaps it would be the women, or half-breeds, or wizards above a certain age? Have you ever thought to yourself what life will be like after the Dark Lord takes power? Do you think we’ll be free from his darkness because we are purebloods? Do you think life will ever know peace or be free from terror again?”
Altaire’s voice was rising with every word she spat out, and the doors trembled softly, although Hermione wasn’t sure if that was from the power of Altaire’s voice or her own shaking hands. This conversation was nothing like she could have imagined she might overhear from a pureblood heiress.
“But we can be free, Teri. If you would just accept this, I could protect your whole family! The Zabinis have always been a neutral party, and we have the Italian Ministry’s protection. This is a British matter, and once you agree to this arrangement, you’d have their protection too. Once the higher ups know you’ve accepted my hand, they’ll see you as a Zabini. Even they wouldn’t touch you then. The name Malfoy is a political power, but mine holds power in its immunity. Please, I’m begging you Teri, just this once, let me help you.”
Was Zabini proposing marriage? Hermione wondered, hardly able to believe the conversation that was taking place. They were teenagers!
“Blaise…” Altaire’s voice sounded tired now, sadness lacing her words. “You know I love you. You’ve always been my dearest friend. But you’re fooling yourself. The Dark Lord has found a way to bypass mortality. If he manages to control Britain, what makes you think he’ll stop there? He’ll have eternity to continue reigning terror and expanding the scope of his power, pushing his agenda across every boarder. If Britain falls, Europe will be next. It’ll only be a matter of time before the whole world is under his wand and then, Zabini will just be another name on the list of dissidents to hunt down or loyalist to subjugate at his feet.”
“It won’t come to that.” Zabini responded, but his tone was faltering, as if he hardly believed his own words.
“And who will stop him?” she asked.
Then there was silence. Hermione tentatively moved away from the door, readying herself to flee at the sound of footsteps.
Finally, it was Blaise’s voice that broke the uncomfortable quiet of the abandoned hallway.
“I know you love him-“
“This has nothing to do with that.” Altaire’s voice cut in sharply.
“Let me finish.” Blaise’s voice was pleading, softer now. “I know you do all of this out of love. I understand Teri. But we’re still so young. Things change, people change. But this ring, it only has to mean as much as you want it to. It can stop meaning anything the moment you decide you don’t want it to. Or it can mean everything, if ever you decide that it’s worthy of you. But it’s here. It’ll always be here. I swear on my magic.”
Another short silence followed, before Altaire spoke out, a slight tremor audible in her voice. “Blaise… you’re an Italian pureblood. You don’t need to be hassling yourself with these archaic British traditions. You’re the only one of us who is actually free to marry for love without any repercussions. Your family don’t even need alliances. You have a lifetime to travel, to live, to fall in love. Don’t tie yourself to me out of some kind of warped sense of loyalty or guilt, just because we grew up together. I’ll find a way to keep myself alive. You don’t owe me anything.”
“I’m not going to give up on trying to save you, just because you’ve decided to go down the path of sure destruction, Teri. And I’m not doing this because I feel like I have some kind of duty towards you. You’re my family too, or have you forgotten? I will never leave you behind, and that’s why I’m terrified, watching you make these choices. I love you too much to just sit back and watch you ruin yourself. Say the word. Anytime. I’ll pull you out. I mean it Teri. Anytime. You’ve got me.”
Hermione heard heavy footsteps approaching the door and quickly flattened herself against the wall, having been so engrossed in the conversation that she hadn’t the time to run away without being seen.
Thankfully, Blaise Zabini had more or less ran out of the classroom, not bothering to look around his surroundings. If he had, he would have surely spotted her, crammed into the corner of the wall, in her very poor attempt at being inconspicuous.
Watching the Slytherin boy disappear down the corridor, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and pushed herself off the wall, brushing off some dust, as she started to make her way down the corridor.
“Didn’t anyone tell you that it’s rude to eavesdrop?”